Magic Leaves Traces
by I-brake-for-nifflers
Summary: When Harry's grandchildren find themselves in the Headmistress' office, they end up hearing the tale of how their parents met. HPGW, HGRW, DMGD, Many O.C.'s... Please Review! I hate asking, but it will help my writing.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I am not making money from this story. I don't own Harry Potter or any characters you recognize. Some of these characters I completely made up. Not like that will help…

Prologue

In an office that used to be filled with glittering and whirring instruments, two children sat in mismatched armchairs in front of a heavy mahogany desk. On the right was an eleven-year-old girl with soft features, white-blonde hair, and deep green eyes. She looked around the room she had seen many times before and popped her muggle chewing gum. The sound reverberated in the silence. On the left, a boy the same age sat playing with a golden snitch, his untidy dark hair falling over his grey eyes. Their names were Angelique and Maddox, known affectionately by the students and staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as "those Potter twins." They were sitting in this office due to a well placed jelly-legs jinx and some of their second cousin's (although they call him Uncle) disappearing dust from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. They were troublemakers.

A twenty-eight-year old woman with long, straight red hair and the same green eyes as Angelique slammed the door to her office and gracefully sat behind the gilded mahogany. Her stare bore into the twins. She was not happy with them.

"Aunt Darcie, wedidn'tmeanto! Iswearit!" said Maddox so fast the Headmistress could barely understand him.

"Yes we did. Stop being such a git, doxie-woxie…" Angelique's face twisted into a familiar smirk.

"Don't call me that!" Maddox jumped from his seat and Darcie heard the tell-tale noises of a lamp shattering behind her.

"Would both of you sit down?" They were still shouting, and hadn't heard her. "NOW!"

The kids became silent, staring at their Aunt like she had just slaughtered a hippogriff. Angelique popped her gum.

All of a sudden, the three in the office heard a giggle behind them. They turned to see a small portrait of a slender woman with bushy hair and muddy brown eyes. In the portrait she looked about 30 years old, and her eyes shone as she laughed at all the commotion.

"Great Aunt Hermione!" Both kids jumped out of their chairs and ran over to the sniggering portrait.

"Hello to you Angelique. Maddox. Darcie. What's all the noise about?" Hermione asked. Darcie explained what the twins had done, and the portrait was laughing so hard now it was becoming contagious.

"Why are you laughing, Aunt Hermione?" Darcie asked, trying to hold in her own giggles.

Hermione turned her chocolate eyes to the twins, and said "You two… you remind me so much of your parents."

Maddox let his face curl into a huge smile, showing pearly white, perfectly straight teeth. He loved being compared to his father. Andy Potter was a strong man that had played professional Quiddich and always had so many stories to tell Maddox and Angelique.

Angelique smiled, also. Her eyes twinkled, and her liquid hair slid off of her shoulder. She was so much like her mother that Hermione could only tell the difference by the deep mossy green eyes that belonged to her nephew.

"Did they ever tell you how they first met?" Hermione sent the twins a conniving grin.

"No they didn't!" Maddox said, taken aback by the fact that his father had missed such an important story.

"Tell us, please, Great Aunt 'Mione!" Angelique added not a second after.

"It all started in Andy's sixth year here, when I was Headmistress. A new student, a transfer from one of the top wizarding schools in France…"


	2. A letter

Disclaimer: I am not making money from this story. I don't own Harry Potter or any characters you recognize. Some of these characters I completely made up. Not like that will help…

Chapter 1

Harry Potter awoke to the sound of a small, beautifully white owl tapping on the window of his office. He normally didn't sleep here, as he and Ginny had taken up residence in Hagrid's old hut (now completely different inside, of course), but today had been really hectic. He stifled a huge yawn and stretched while grudgingly slipping out from behind his desk, a mess from where he had lost consciousness on about 40 boggart essays. It was the first day of the term and he had been grading summer assignments all day, even through the feast. Damn procrastination. Maybe he should have listened to Hermione all those years ago…nah.

Half awake and regretting Ron's decision to ever put Hedwig and Pig in the same cage, Harry slid his way over to the window. Gunnar, the impatient little owl, tapped incessantly and started zooming around when he noticed Harry's approach. Harry, having had a lot of practice at this, slowly opened the window a crack and caught Gunnar as if he was a furry snitch.

Harry pried the letter away from Gunnar's leg and recognized the seal immediately as his son's. '_Crap! Probably missed Darcie's sorting,_' he thought to himself, '_I am never going to live this one down._"

He slid his finger over the seal and felt the magic warm and tingling underneath his calloused skin. It always amazed him how much magic Andy could put into anything, let alone a tiny blob of wax. He muttered to himself and the wax slowly melted away from the edge of the parchment and cooled again, allowing him to open the letter and see an exact replica of his own hurried handwriting.

_Dad,_

_You missed the weirdest sorting ever… and although I want to say that it's because it was Darcie's (and yes, she's in Gryffindor with me), it got more exciting then even my Drama Queen sister could make it. Just as the new first years were almost done being sorted, everything went quiet and this evil looking man and a slightly less evil-looking girl walked into the Great Hall like they sodding owned the place. I didn't like the looks of them at all, but Aunt Hermione recognized whoever the man was straight away and ushered the girl over to the sorting hat. She didn't look short enough to be a first year, though. She had the most beautiful hair, like spun silver- the whitest blonde I've ever seen. Her face also sort of reminded me of that old newspaper clipping Grandma kept of you from your fourth year when you were in the Triwizard Tournament with that woman that Mom always calls Phlegm. It seemed like I already knew her. Anyway, to make a longer story short, she's in Slytherin. Like you couldn't tell she'd end up there by the smirk on her face. I'm just telling you this to warn you, Dad, because you will probably have her in one of your classes, the witch._

_Andrew Ronald Potter_

Harry scanned his son's letter twice more before he sunk onto the floor and, in a very frustrated breath mumbled two words… not again.


	3. Reflections

Disclaimer: I am not making money from this story. I don't own Harry Potter or any characters you recognize. Some of these characters I completely made up. Not like that will help…

A/N: I keep forgetting to thank my good friend Claire, who has been such a wonderful help!

"It is one of the irritating things about old teachers. I am afraid they never quite forget their charges youthful beginnings." - Dumbledore, HBP, p.442

Chapter 2

Andy stood in front of the mirror and tried desperately in his fourth futile attempt that morning to tame his jet black hair. Although his mother and aunt had tried absolutely everything in their power (and that was a lot) to make his hair cooperate since Andy was four, his dad would just rumple it up again and tease that nobody would recognize him if his hair actually looked presentable. Andy's dad, the famous Harry Potter, was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor here at Hogwarts and a popular teacher amongst the students and the faculty. His mom was Ginevra Potter, hero of the second war against Voldemort and flying instructor/Quiddich referee (except when Andy himself was playing and professor Krum had to do the honors.)

Andy was in his sixth year here, and was practically inseparable with his two best friends, Castor and Heather. Castor was his cousin, his Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione's son, and as Andy looked at his reflection he saw Castor over his shoulder bouncing up and down on one foot trying to pull on a perfectly knitted sock. Castor was completely obsessed with books, practically lived in the library, and had the highest grades in the school. He often could be found amongst the dusty stacks, having been immersed in a certain book for hours. Castor loved to read about ancient prophecy, despite Aunt Hermione's continued attempts to try to steer him away from it. He may have been quite the bookworm, but he also had no common sense to speak of. Andy liked his little quirks, like always talking with his mouth full and how maliciously he played wizard's chess. He had short, curly brown hair that marked him as Aunt Hermione's son, but the deep blue eyes were definitely Uncle Ron's.

Heather was so different from Andy and Castor. She was what she liked to call an "accident". Her parents had her very late in life; they were older than everyone else's parents. She was raised mostly by Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione with Castor, though, because her dad, Gilderoy Lockhart went A.W.O.L. for awhile (Dad, Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione never liked him very much anyway). Her mother, affectionately remembered by Andy's parents as Tonks, died when Heather was born prematurely. Heather was the beauty of Gryffindor Tower, and although she had her mother's power to spontaneously change her appearance, she only did to escape the confines of the invisibility cloak on the three friends' midnight wanderings. When she wasn't Mrs. Potato Head (a muggle toy) she had long, perfect blonde hair that fell in soft waves over her shoulders and a blinding smile that she mischievously used to talk her way out of absolutely everything. She was clumsier than Castor, and had broken every dish in the Burrow more than once… let alone the delicate instruments in her adopted mother's office here that Dumbledore had left for all the headmasters and headmistresses who would come after him. Heather would smile it all away, and together the three children had grown up with the some of the most famous people of the wizarding world.

Andy smiled to his reflection while thinking about Heather. Andy hadn't seen her all summer because she had to go visit her dad in France. He and Castor had missed her, but they didn't see her at all on the train. Despite the fact that all three were in some way related to the headmistress, she was very stern about making sure their experiences were as normal as possible. That meant a.) riding the train to school with everyone else, and b.) mountains of detention.

oooo

Heather had been humming to herself all morning. She was going to see Andy again! Ever since they were young she had thought he was funny and smart, and liked him so much, but she hadn't been able to tell him that for fear that he would reject her and that their friendship would be ruined. (Aunt Ginny had told her that she had had the same sort of relationship with Uncle Harry, and they ended up married, so there was some hope). This was her year. She would tell him that he made her throat dry up when he hugged her hello, and that she couldn't stop smiling whenever she was near him, and he would say that he feels the same way and everything would work out ok.

Before she could tell Andy anything, however, Heather had to deal with the new girl. Emeline was beautiful, with her silver hair and porcelain doll complexion. Not even the permanent sneer could disfigure her face. The two girls had met at a party in France when Heather was visiting her biological father that summer. The girl had immediately introduced herself as Emeline Malfoy when Heather had walked in. They talked for awhile, while their fathers discussed Arthur Weasley becoming the Minister of Magic in England. Soon Heather discovered that Em would be transferring from the school she'd been in the last five years (a frilly little French place called Beauxbatons, isn't that where Phlegm was from?) to Heather's own school because her mother had died the previous year and they had no more ties to France. Emeline was afraid, but Heather had promised that nothing weird would happen to her.

That's how Heather got roped into playing tour guide this morning, introducing Emeline to the castle she loved as much as the Burrow, or Hagrid's Hut.

oooo

Draco Malfoy knocked on the door of the office he had only seen once or twice before when it had been occupied by that old coot Dumbledore and his bloody phoenix. Now it was occupied by the know-it-all mudblood he had spent his entire adolescent life tormenting. He cursed his awful luck, knowing that if Gabi had lived Emeline would be able to stay at Beauxbatons, but she- they- didn't belong there anymore. He took a deep breath as his face slid into the sneer that had plagued Hogwarts for seven years and squeezed Emeline's slender shoulder as the door with the obnoxious griffin knocker slowly opened. He was met with a straight faced Hermione and a young blonde girl about Emeline's age who politely kissed her on each cheek before asking his daughter what she thought of Hogwarts. Draco glided over to the headmistress. "Granger," He spit his greeting at her, "Why wasn't I informed about you inheriting this dump until last night?"

"Hello to you too," Hermione sarcastically replied, "It's not Granger anymore, Malfoy. I'm married to Ron now."

"That weasel! Well, at least the minister's daughter in law can sodding satisfy his bloody plug collecting addiction." Draco was livid now. How much had he actually missed? '_Has this bloody school finally gone off the deep end? I can only hope that some of the professors these days are decent!'_

"Malfoy, I would appreciate it if you didn't act as if we were ignorant children here. If you are going to complain about the Minister of Magic, do it on your own time. Don't waste mine." She stared menacingly into Draco's cold, grey eyes to solidify her point. "I have been headmistress here for four years, it is not my fault you ran away to France with Fleur's little sister and haven't been keeping up." She walked over to the glistening hair and ivory skin that was Draco's daughter, smiling politely." Hello Ms. Malfoy, Heather will help you out for awhile. If you ever need anything, just ask her, ok?" Draco felt his face slowly settle and his fists unclench as he looked at his daughter, then suddenly his body tensed again as he realized the Hermione was trying to be nice. To HIS daughter. Emeline did not need Hermione's pity.

"Come darling," he growled at Emeline, "We must make sure the house elves unpack your things correctly." He swooped out the door with his daughter in tow.

oooo

Breakfast was eventful that morning. Owls were hooting, children were talking much louder than necessary, and with his delivery of _The_ _Daily Prophet_ Harry ended up with about four feathers landing on top of his kippers. He had talked to Hermione about what happened earlier that morning in her office, and wondered what in the world he had ever done to deserve Malfoy back in his life. At first, he cursed his rotten luck at having Draco's daughter as a student, but then he was hit with a sudden stroke of inspiration. All he knew is that he didn't know Emeline Malfoy, only Draco. Maybe Emeline was different than him. Maybe she wasn't a horrible pure blood mania infused git like her father was- is. Harry remembered his first potions lesson and how Snape had automatically judged him based on his father's behavior. '_If I automatically assume she's a right foul git, aren't I as bad as Snape was?'_ As if on cue, Emeline effortlessly floated into the great hall with Heather who showed her where to sit at the Slytherin table. Heather wandered back to Andy, Castor, Darcie, and some of their other friends. Harry smiled and turned to Hermione. "She'll do just fine."


	4. In Which Castor Chokes on a Muffin

Disclaimer: I am not making money from this story. I don't own Harry Potter or any characters you recognize. Some of these characters I completely made up. Not like that will help…

A/N: Thanks to the lone reviewer for this fic so far, I assure you that I am updating as fast as possible. Also, thanks again to the lovely Claire who has, on multiple occasions, kept me from embarrassing myself. I think.

Chapter 3

"I can't help detesting my relations. I suppose it comes from the fact that none of us can stand other people having the same faults as ourselves."- Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

Andy heard Heather sneaking up behind him and ducked before the blonde could cover his eyes with her soft, tan hands. She fell into him from the momentum of her scare attempt and started laughing; her eyes were a light green today and her smile reached all the way up to the stained glass of her irises.

Castor was trying to choke down a fluffy blueberry muffin and he said in his 'stern' voice, "I should give you two detention right now. That's no way to behave…" Needless to say, the effect was dampened when he started into a coughing fit. This just made Andy and Heather laugh harder until Darcie waved her wand. The obstruction in Castor's throat dissolved and he was once again able to breathe. Castor turned to Darcie, "Sometimes you really scare me, Dee. Where did you learn to do that?"

Darcie just shrugged, sending her waist long red hair rippling over her shoulders… "You're welcome."

Just then, Andy's dad started passing out course schedules for the term along the Gryffindor table (Harry had been head of Gryffindor House ever since he was hired as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor). Harry kept pretending to give Andy the paper, but kept it just out of reach. After about 2 minutes of that, Andy snatched his schedule away from his teasing father and then glanced at where he was supposed to be this morning. He groaned, and at Heather's questioning look muttered "Double Potions. I'm so sick of Krum."

Instead of agreeing with Andy, Heather turned her smile on full force. "It's going to be a really good lesson today, I promise. I can introduce you to Emeline!" Andy looked confused for a minute, until Heather added "You don't remember her? You wrote Uncle Harry about her being sorted last night! She's in our year, too!"

oooo

Andy made his way to the dungeons amongst the mass of students that had swarmed out of the great hall. He was surrounded by people, getting a lot of attention- glares and greetings. He didn't notice any of it. All he could think about was Emeline… was that what Heather said her name was? She was beautiful. She was like no creature he had ever seen before. Her eyes were a pale grey that entranced him… "_What am I thinking? I don't even know who she is. And plus, she's mean. I can tell by the way she glared at the entire hall last night.'_

'_You don't really know she's mean… you're just trying to protect yourself!' _Andy rubbed his temple and then his forehead to shut off his conscience. He was thinking too much, that's all.

Covering his eyes was not the best idea amongst the entire student body. Within two seconds, he ran into somebody and fell to the cold stone floor. "Crap."

A voiced said sarcastically, "Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry!" Andy looked up to see an ivory face, laughing grey eyes, and slight, pink lips drawn out into a teasing smirk. On top of him. In the middle of a crowded hallway. "I didn't see you there. I'm Emeline. You can call me Em. That is, if you don't turn out to be a real prat."

Andy just looked at her for awhile, still a bit confused, until he finally cleared his throat and Emeline realized that she had been on top of him much longer than necessary. If it was necessary to begin with. She stood up gracefully and brushed away the nonexistent wrinkles in her expensive robes. Andy, still in a state of slight shock, started to walk away without saying anything.

oooo

"You're going to make me chase you, aren't you?" Emeline drawled in perfect imitation of her father. She ran after the boy she had just tackled in the hallway, caught up to him, and pulled him around to face her. "I can't find the way to my class; surely a man of little words such as your self would know the way?" She mentally beat her head against the wall. Dad would kill her if he saw her now, tackling boys in the hallway and getting constantly lost. Her dad wasn't really that bad though. He didn't really talk much about what happened when he went to school here, but she knew that there were a few people he'd tried desperately to forget. To hate. She didn't want that for herself. Her father had raised her strictly, but Draco had never been a bad father, like Lucius was. Her Dad loved her, and she could tell that he had loved her mother too. Time had worn him out.

There was something odd about this boy. He looked slightly familiar, for one. His hair in all of its disheveled glory made her want to smile, and his eyes were the darkest green she had ever seen. Emeline lost herself for a minute, just taking him in, his perfect nose, muscular shoulders, and the calloused hand he held out to her in greeting.

"I'm Andrew. You must be Emeline."

"You play Quiddich." As each of them respectively realized what the other one had said, they both became very confused. They both started at the same time again…

"How did you know I played Quiddich?"

"How did you know my name?" This was not going to work. Andy started to answer Emeline's question before she could say anything else.

"Heather is one of my best friends. She mentioned something to me about you, and I recognized you from the great hall last night. Plus, you just told me when you were on top of me. Now, what wonderful explanation do you have for me?"

"Um…" Emeline was caught a little off guard. She hadn't expected him to be so full of himself. She hadn't even wanted to say that Quiddich thing out loud. Her brain was very muddied up around him. "Your hand, it's calloused where it would touch a broom." she mentally repeated '_He thinks you're stupid!_' as a mantra in her head while he tried to come to a conclusion about her, tearing her down with his arrogant, inquisitive gaze.

After an akward silence that could annoy the best of them, Andy tapped into his mother's resources. It was like flipping a switch inside him when it came to girls. But this girl was different. She was sarcastic, materialistic (hence the expensive robes), and very inconsistent. She was gorgeous. She was totally different from every other girl he talked to, but he liked her. He liked Emeline a lot, and this would only work if she liked him back. If he had told his dad he was about to do this, Harry would blush mercilessly and then turn to glance over at his mother. He found the thought amusing. '_Mom said he was never good with girls…'_ Then Andy considered his mother's reaction, a huge smile on her face as she would reach up to give him a swift kiss on the forehead and say, 'I know you can do this. You're my son, too!'

And that's when Andy Potter kissed her. It was barley a touch, but Emeline felt the electricity surge through her, to her fingers, toes and back to her lips and her eyes closed in dreamy response. She realized then what had happened, and then ran away with her books falling out of her arms and Andy calling behind her, "Wait! You don't know where you're going, remember?"

Andy stepped into Krum's dungeon and sat down in his usual spot between Castor and Heather. He had made it just in time. If Heather was right and this was Emeline's sixth year, and she was in Slytherin, then she was in this class. She obviously hadn't made it in time.

oooo

Castor watched the new girl and Andy collide, fall down, and _stay_ down. He heard Andy give a slight cough, and saw both try to get up with as much dignity as they could muster. Andy started to walk away, the girl followed him. He saw them kiss. '_What the heck! They don't even know each other! They didn't even say anything, and Andy just kissed her!' _She ran away.

"Now I'm lost," Castor told his friend as the sat down in the Potions classroom, "you didn't even talk."

Andy's disconnected answer came as a surprise to Castor. "Isn't Em beautiful?"

He was confused now. Andy never went ga-ga over girls he didn't even know before. Heck, Castor hadn't ever seen him totally into a girl since, well, ever. He pushed his confusion into the back corner of his mind and started to listen to what promised to be a very interesting lecture.

After years of teaching in England, Viktor Krum had only retained some of his trademark Bulgarian accent. It was enough to keep things interesting for Castor, who liked listening for the little twinges that deepened his voice as he became more and more excited about boomslang skin, burdock root and how if one mixes the two they're sure to burn a hole through the table. Castor was taking meticulous notes, absolutely enthralled with Krum's murderous gesticulation when suddenly the dungeon door creaked open. A tall, slim, man with short platinum hair swooped in and landed his cold, grey eyes on the confused professor. "I demand to see my daughter."

oooo

"Damn it, just tell me where she is."

"I'm sorry Malfoy, but your daughter is late. Ven she finally gets here, I vill let you know immediately. Now, if you vill kindly excuse me…" Krum turned back to the silent classroom, as Draco inwardly sighed. Who would have thought that his daughter would be lost in Hogwarts? He actually smiled a little at the thought. Emeline was the love of his life, and with his school rivals in places of influence all over this bloody school he couldn't help but worry about her.

He had just found out merely a half and hour ago that Harry was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and it scared him. He wasn't as worried about Hermione being headmistress, since he had always seen her as some form of miniature McGonagall anyway. He knew enough now to predict that she'd be fair, at least. But when it came to Harry, Draco didn't know what to do. Harry would always see him as the boy who had let the death eaters in at the end of their sixth year, not the man who had stood up to his father and carried out Snape's _plan_ to let them in that eventually lead to the capture of the horcruxes and the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Draco fought with this reality on a daily basis; never saying a word about his past to his beloved daughter for fear that she'd lose faith in him. He may have disentangled himself from Lucius' clutches, but the entire way he vowed to himself that if he had children he would love them the way his father hadn't loved him.

Draco hadn't realized it until Gabrielle died, but he wanted so badly to be accepted into other people's lives that when he was in school he had resorted to means that led him down a dark and dangerous path. He was doing it again. Pushing the people he wanted to reconcile with farther from him. And he also made a vow to himself, four months ago, that he would let his little girl learn from his mistakes- all of them. But to do that, he would have to risk her contempt, that sneer that was as familiar to him as the child's voice, and love. He would have to tell her. Everything.

oooo

Emeline was scared. She was horribly lost and there wasn't a soul in sight. Somewhere in the distance she heard a bell ring… she had inadvertently missed her first class! She didn't want her father to know that the first class she ever skived out of in his school was an accident. After a few more minutes passed, Emeline decided that she was tired of this. She missed her mother desperately, she was in a new school and she was kissing random boys in the hallways. This knowledge made her crumple to the floor. '_If mom was still alive, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't have met Andy. Confusing, weird, completely hot Andy. Do I want to be here? Do I want to be back at Beauxbatons? I just want my dad. I want Andy. I want anybody who can get me out of here.'_ She started crying. She didn't know anyone except for a boy she had just run away from.

"DAD!" Emeline was starting to panic now. "Andy?" She sighed deeply. "Anyone?" The lights went out.

…

"OOF!"

She let out a strangled cry as somebody grabbed her from behind, pointed a wand to her throat and whispered "silencio". Emeline tried to scream but it was no use, she had officially become the 'Speak No Evil' monkey on all those knick-knacks she'd seen in little shops on the outskirts of muggle London with her father. '_Ok I can't scream- what else can I do to get away?'_ She turned quickly and bit, kicked, scratched… anything she could to get away from whoever the heck was keeping her here. The mysterious, disembodied voice just sighed as a hand reached out to her.

"C'mon, let's get out of here."


	5. An Impatient Owl

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters you recognize. J.K. Rowling is one lucky duck.

A/N: YAY! I love reviews! I especially love constructive criticism. But, please, If you have nothing constructive to say then I don't need to hear- well, read, actually- it. Reviews exist to give friendly comments and suggestions. Thankfully, all of my reviewers so far have been angels. (Yes, even the ones that tell me it's confusing.) If you can stay with me, I'll take you on an exciting ride. If you're confused and you want me to explain, just send me an e-mail. I don't bite. I also apologise for the short chapter, but I want to give my few followers something more to think about. Thanks again to the lovely Claire… Relax and Enjoy!

Chapter 4

"Must not all things at the last be swallowed up in death?"

-Plato

Draco had lost his daughter. What was he thinking? Bringing her into this ruddy, this horrible… whatever the heck it was. Nobody had seen her since breakfast, she was missing, and she was all he had left. It had been hours now, and suddenly two really important things happened at once. First, there was a loud knock on Hermione's office door, which was where Draco lay slumped on the floor, crushing his hands to his eyes to block out the noise around him. He had never really dealt with Gabi's death. So now, feeling the sadness of two lost loves, every noise and every movement brought on scores and scores of so much pain he didn't know what to do with it.

Barely waiting for the door to open, a boy Emmie's age ran into the room frantically screaming, "Aunt Hermione!"

'_Aunt? Wait a minute…' _thought Draco, as he slowly raised his eyes toward the room and saw… Harry. But he was younger than he was supposed to be. His eyes were darker, and his stature more muscular and strong than Harry's had ever been. Oh Merlin. This must be…

"Andy, sweetie, what's wrong?" Hermione took the frightened and flustered boy into her arms, just as an owl urgently tapped the window.

"No time…forced breath last one to see breath Em…" The owl was growing steadily impatient, the pecking noises coming faster and faster, louder and louder on the window.

"Emeline…" He turned to the mess of raven hair Hermione was embracing. "WHO ARE YOU!" Draco stood up, breathing hard. "WHERE IS SHE…?" He spun around furiously, knocking down a few more of Dumbledore's treasured instruments that Heather hadn't yet broken beyond repair. He calmed down slightly and said, "Will you please let in that bloody owl?"

Hermione rushed over to the window and opened the latch. "It's Mr. Malfoy, right? You're Em's father?"

Draco rolled his eyes "No. I'm her bloody house elf. Who else would I be?"

"Well sir, I ran into her in the hallway before potions and…"

"Hurry up! What does this have to do with anything!" Draco was starting to get extremely upset again.

"Everything sir. I ...um, well I…"

"Spit it out!"

"I kissed her!"

"You WHAT!"

"It was an accident, then she ran away, and I don't know what happened to her and I needed to tell you!"

Now somebody else ran into the room. "Andy, wait for me! Come back here or I'll give you detention!"

Draco was reaching for his wand to curse Harry's son into oblivion when he heard an enormous thud coming from the window. Both Draco and Andy turned their heads to look at Hermione, face on the ground, not moving… "Crap" they both said at the same time.

They ran over to Hermione's side, where Andy promptly turned her over and placed her head in his lap. "Was she stunned?" Draco asked the question in a cool manner, but his eyes betrayed him to Andy. He was worried. About Emeline, about Hermione…

"Look at this!" Andy picked up the piece of parchment that had come from the leg of the impatient owl. Andy read it aloud to Draco and the other boy, his face slowly growing more and more serious, if that was even possible.

"_Dear Professor Weasley:_

_We are regretfully sending you this letter in regards to the health and well being of Ronald Weasley, your husband. During an attack on the Ministry of Magic a mere 15 minutes ago, he was lost. We have reason to believe he has passed away. We will soon be sending over a representative to help console you, if you consent. _

_We will never forget him._

_P.S.- Hermione dear, this letter was so impersonal I had to add a note. If you need anything right now, If you need us to take care of Castor and Heather, or just need a friend, send a note right back ok? None of us saw this coming._

_- Seamus and Parvati Finnegan_

Andy didn't know what to do. He felt like the wind had just been knocked out of him… Uncle Ron, Dad's best friend, he can't be dead. No. Andy wouldn't let him be dead. He can't be… no…

The world went black.


	6. Another Prophecy?

Disclaimer: For the sixth time… I own nothing you recognize! Don't sue me!

A/N: I'm a softie. I couldn't bear to leave you all with half of the characters passed out for very long. …Sigh… I hope you enjoy the appearance of an old friend in this chapter. And, be forewarned. This is confusing. I would recommend, if you're planning on staying with me here, reading this over more than once. In trying to convey the chaos of thought, I have created chaos. If you don't understand, you're always welcome to ask me questions in reviews, private messages, or by e-mail. One last thing, after re-reading what I have up so far, (especially this fluke of a chapter), my work seems very unoriginal. But I have been working hard, and with how fast I've been updating, any time now it will be different. Have faith in me.

Chapter 5

"By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he has a son who thinks he's wrong."

-Charles Wadsworth

Andy woke up to Heather stroking his forehead, not making the slightest noise but with big, watery, light blue eyes that told him it hadn't been a dream. She looked tired, and sad. Not just sad. Beyond any sadness Andy could explain, and he felt a wrench deep in his heart and a slow, heavy teardrop came to rest on the pillow next to him. It was late at night, the windows wereblacked over and a slight layer of pale condensation creeped over them.

'_What's going on? Everything is happening at once! This sounds like one of Dad's old stories about his days in school. But never in a million years did I dream I would have to go through this crap, too! Emeline is gone, Uncle Ron is gone… Hermione! Where is she? Is she o.k.?_'

Andy sat bolt upright all of a sudden and realized he was in the stark whiteness of the hospital wing. A plump, usually cheery looking woman rushed over to him immediately with a stern look on her face. "You're not ready for that Mr. Potter! Lay down now, before I have to do something drastic!" It was obvious to Andy she was upset about Ron too, as Madame Bones fluffed his pillows and called for Harry to get his butt over there pronto.

Harry walked over to the blustery woman and in a calm voice said, "Susan, now is not the time to fuss, it will only make it worse." This seemed to do the trick, and after pulling Susan Bones into a quick embrace he made his way over to where his son was lying.

Andy was still holding out hope… but the words coming from his own father's mouth had made it real. "Andy, he's gone."

Heather threw herself on to the bed and started crying, she couldn't hold it any longer. Her unrequited love for Andy, the pain of a beloved father's death (even though she was adopted), and the biting urge to find the girl she had sworn she wouldn't let get hurt all spilled out onto the white sheets as she clutched them. It was a futile attempt at holding onto things and people that weren't there anymore. "Dad…" it was a low whisper, but the silence of the cold, white walls of the infirmary carried it to every ear and it's quietness stung the back of everyone's throats and the corners of their eyes. "What happened? What did they do to you? I love you more than anything in the world. I didn't tell you enough." Her head drooped onto Andy's chest out of sheer exhaustion. Andy's face looked up into the grey eyes of Draco Malfoy that seemed so hauntingly familiar to him now.

"I'm going to find Emeline, sir, if it's the last thing I do."

oooo

Castor knew he had to follow it. Right after he had heard the news about his father, he had felt the pull of the imperious curse. His mother and father had taught him to fight it, resist the dreamy urge to do what it asked of him. But he wanted to know who was behind this. "Why did you kill my dad?" Castor puffed up in defense against his unknown enemy. "Where is Emeline? What could she have ever done to you!" He shouted into a surrounding darkness, and then he heard the soft foot falls behind him.

"She's not here." He spun around to see a haunting face, long dark hair, he had seen a picture of this person before, but she can't be this young…"Baby Castor, thought he was all snuggled up in his pretty little castle…"

"Bellatrix… you're Sirius Black's cousin!"

"Nice try, but no…CRUCIO!" Suddenly Castor's body screamed out in pain, like he was rolling on white hot barbed wire, thrown into the Northern Atlantic Ocean in winter, torn my millions of knives, and then, release.

"Let me introduce myself… my name is Andromeda Lestrange, proud daughter of fearless followers of the Dark Lord Himself! He will reward me, once I gain access to the ultimate power and bring him back! And you… you", she spit on his silently writhing form, "are useless to me now."

Then it hit him. Suddenly the exchange between Andy and, '_What was her name again?'_ made so much more sense. Andromeda was after them, both of them. He vaguely remembered an ancient prophecy he had read about where a relationship was the key to the 'ultimate power'… that would explain why Andy was so ga-ga around her… Andromeda must know about the prophecy, too. Castor knew what he needed to do now. He remembered the direction that the girl had run off to after Andy kissed her. He needed to make sure she didn't wander into Andromeda's clutches with a well- placed imperious curse. She would never listen to him; she didn't even know him. He needed to kidnap her. With a quick POP he apparated outside of the school grounds and ran to where he knew he'd find himself… the hidden room he had found just days before in the restricted section of the library.

It was a sight Castor never thought he would see. He was sitting in the room with Emeline, playing a pretty obnoxious game of wizard's chess. It truly was an out of body experience. It didn't drive him mad to see himself, because he had figured it all out himself. Mom would be proud of him, if he could do this the right way.

oooo

Hermione stifled a sob as Susan handed her a frothing potion, warm in her hands and smelling strongly of petrol. "Hermione, it will help you sleep." The bushy-haired woman just pushed the goblet away. "I won't sleep until I find out where Castor is!"

Draco nodded, "I need Emmie right now, more than anything in the world, and I know how you feel." He shuffled his feet. "Crap. I just wanted to talk to her, tell her what I loved about her mother. What I love about her. Why she means so much to me. I want to tell her why she hadn't set foot inside my school until she was 16. Why she didn't meet any of these people until now… Oh Merlin! She's just met them… why didn't I see it before? Damn it!" An ancient prophecy had just popped into his head, the ultimate power…

Hermione was more that a little confused by this outburst. "What in Merlin's name are you blubbering on about?"

And then, Draco Malfoy's ivory hand reached out to Hermione's dun wrist… "Are you up for a trip to the Hall of Prophecy?"


	7. More Mysteries

Disclaimer: Once again, Harry is not my creation, but Rowling's. Sigh.

A/N: Whhheee… roller coaster, isn't it? Sorry it's so soap opera-ish. I can't help myself. I hope this chapter helps. Remember that you guys can just ask me if you have any questions, I don't bite. Enjoy.

Chapter 6

"I do not want people to be agreeable as it saves me the trouble of liking them."

-Jane Austen

Castor walked into the room and nodded at himself. The girl looked slightly confused, but sensing the tense atmosphere politely stayed out of the way. "Is it time?" He asked himself, and was answered by the other Castor's lunge off of the box he was sitting on.

"About time I got here," Castor number two mumbled under his breath, and then walked out into the dusty shelves of the library to wait.

The Castor that was left with the cause of Andy's recent mushiness slowly reached under his shirt for the one thing he knew could help. It was a small, shining hour glass that swiveled several times when his fingers moved the dial, and he disappeared into thin air.

He had to save her… what was her name again?

oooo

Harry didn't know what was wrong with his son. He wouldn't eat, and his dark green eyes were staring intently at a very ordinary looking bed pan. Andy was obviously seeing something far beyond the cool metal. "You look confused, kid."

"Huh?" Andy was trying to shake himself back into reality.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were in love."

"That's a big word, Dad."

"Who is she then? C'mon tell me!"

Andy smirked when he saw his father's pathetic attempt at a sneaky grin. It was obvious he missed Uncle Ron desperately. His father's emerald eyes had never been able to conceal pain well.

oooo

Draco and Hermione ran into the Ministry of Magicand down the familiar path to the Department of Mysteries where Ron had worked, towards the dusty orbs she remembered in her nightmares. It's got to be here somewhere… it's what the intruders were after, and sure enough they ran to a spot that seemed to be the center of the commotion. Bellatrix Lestrange, at least it looked like her, was standing amongst the pile of rubble in which Hermione was sure her husband was buried. She was trying unsuccessfully to touch a specific murky globe, its label barely legible from hundreds of years of neglect.

"You!" The woman hissed at Malfoy, "We all want to hear the damn thing- See if you can get it!" Malfoy leaned over to the orb… and took it into his hands. This proved it… the prophecy definitely had something to do with him and Emeline. It was slightly warm, and the glass felt thick and slippery from the layers of dust protecting the sphere. He looked at it for one moment- turned to Hermione, nodded, and ran like hell as fast as he could.

oooo

Dumbledore, immortalized forever in his portrait, smiled to himself. It was finally happening. Emeline and Andy had met each other and experienced something beyond the normal human connection.

To the untrained eye it would seem that their condition was what muggles liked to call 'love at first sight.' However, their relationship was so much bigger, so much more than lust and looks. They were twin souls, and their relationship would forever cement the balance between good and evil. Everything he had worked for was coming to fruition.

oooo

While Draco was running like a mad man through the Department of Mysteries, and a somehow young and alive Bellatrix Lestrange was chasing him for the filthy prophecy, Hermione took the opportunity to rummage through the pile of rubble that had once been any number of shelves and spheres of hazardous glass.

"Ron?" Hermione had fully accepted Ron possibly dying for the Order, for the ministry, for any number of things. But that was before he actually did die. She couldn't help it, but a faint glimmer of hope that he was still alive despite everything that had happened glimmered in her heart, and pulled sobs into the back her throat. '_Aren't soul mates supposed to know, to feel the moment their love dies? Why didn't I feel him go! He could still be alive… but maybe,' _Hermione started sifting through the rubble more furiously, screaming after her lost husband. '_Maybe he wasn't my soul mate after all.'_

oooo

Castor had read about the prophecy somewhere. He was trying to tell Emeline (he had finally asker her what her name was) about it, but he couldn't name the book. He also didn't know the exact wording of the prophecy; he hadn't memorized it when he came across it. Mom had always been a little wary about his interest in prophecies. If the stories she had told him about her Divination class were even a smidgen true, however, Castor could understand why. "It was something about two mortal enemies coming together through their kids. The prophecy has been around for centuries, and the only clue the wizarding world has been able to extract from it so far is that the two children would be so magically powerful their relationship would unleash an 'ultimate power'. I think I know who those kids are."

"And what does all this have to do with me?"

"Everything."


	8. There's Something About Emeline

Disclaimer: I'll own Harry when hell freezes over.

A/N: Alas, the moment all….hmmm….**six** of you have been waiting for. Thanks to my wonderful Claire. Yadda yadda… PLEASE review. If you aren't giving me some feedback, how can I improve? Sigh. Read on then…

Chapter 7

"When you come to a fork in the road, take it."

-Yogi Berra

Hermione found Ron's body near the bottom of the pile and quickly checked for a pulse. "I found it!" She said aloud to no one in particular, "He's alive!" She looked down at her husband, his face cut and bruised, and she was swarmed with memories of a young red-headed boy riding a stone horse across a chess board. She thought about how stupidly brave he always was, and the memory caused her to choke down a mixture between a sob and a laugh. "I love you, Ronald…" Her salty tears fell onto his face, stinging his wounds.

"It's about time you..."

"Shhh, don't talk sweetie…" she stroked his cheek so lightly he could barely feel it, yet the comfort he received from her touch made his face turn slowly away from a painful grimace.

"But I need to tell you something…"

"No. Rest. I'm going to get you out of here, and you're going to give your son a huge hug, and tell Heather how much you love her…"

"Let me talk, would you! Emeline, she's after Emeline and Andy! The ultimate power…" Hermione looked into her husband's eyes and saw him smile, reach up to kiss her lightly, and then fall limp in her arms, passed out.

oooo

Draco dragged Andy out of the hospital bed and quickly pulled him outside of the big, oak doors. "Listen to me…" Draco whispered, "if you are anything like your father, you'll want to help me with this." Draco pulled his cloak away, exposing a dusty glass sphere. "Can I trust you? Will you help?"

Andy answered him by fixing his big, green eyes on those cold, grey ones. "Yes sir, anything to keep Emeline safe." This answer startled Draco for a minute, and then he remembered the prophecy. He still was slightly suspicious, though. The kids had just met! It wasn't even their second day of classes! How could Harry Potter's son be so devoted to his daughter?

"Why? Why Emeline?"

"I'm not quite sure what you're talking about, Mr. Malfoy. What I do know is that for some reason I'm drawn to her. I can't stop thinking about her. And I might know where she is."

"Where?"

"With Castor, I think."

"Where is he?"

"Follow me."

oooo

Darcie walked calmly into Hagrid's Hut to find her mother and let her know what was going on.

"Mum, Aunt Hermione's gotten some bad news."

"Is everyone ok?" Ginny asked, starting to get a little worried.

"No. The Ministry sent a note to her, saying Uncle Ron died."

"WHAT? Are you kidding me? My own brother dies and still nobody feels the need to even tell me!"

"Settle down, mum. He's fine. He's alive."

"How do you know?"

"It's a long story…"

"Darcie, I know you. Give me the short version."

oooo

Harry ran as fast as he could to Hermione's office, and by the time he reached that familiar stone gargoyle he was panting for breath. He had actually thought he'd grown out of this whole hero nonsense a long time ago. He prayed Andy and Darcie wouldn't get dragged into this mess, he finally could identify with Sirius and Lupin's determination for him not to do anything dangerous when he was in school.

"Bat-nose bars." he said, and the gargoyle moved away from the opening it was guarding. Harry automatically entered the staircase and came to the old door with the griffin knocker. A pleasant, familiar voice greeted him as the door swung open and Harry ran toward a half filled wall of portraits. "Dumbledore, McGonagall! Wake up!" He turned his head toward the wall. "Ginny? What are you doing up here?"

oooo

Andy had known something was different about Emeline from the moment she tackled him in the hallway. He thought it must have been just that intoxication he felt when he was around her, the rumble of warmth deep in his stomach when he saw her hair like liquid silver. But then he had an epiphany. He finally understood what Castor had been trying to tell him.

They hadn't said anything.

Not out loud anyway, but they had talked to each other within themselves. That's why everyone had been staring at them. Nobody even knew they were talking.

Andy felt very overwhelmed.

Could he read minds? Could Emeline? Why hadn't he discovered this power earlier? Was this why he was so entranced by her?

'_Em- where are you, love? Your dad is with me, we're going to come and get you…'_ He'd been trying ever since his epiphany to form that connection with her again. While he tried that, he still had a frustrated father on his hands. It was a long shot- but knowing Castor, the first place Andy dragged Draco Malfoy was the dusty, worn books of the library.


	9. Disappearing Doors

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry and if I break any copyright type things it is very unintentional.

A/N: Sorry about the extremely short chapter. I just wanted it to end with Andy and Draco, and there wasn't much in-between. I'm updating as fast as I can. I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as me; I'm having so much fun writing this. Enjoy!

Chapter 8

"Life was meant to be lived, and curiosity must be kept alive. One must never, for whatever reason, turn his back on life."

-Eleanor Roosevelt

Emeline could not get her mind off of Andy Potter. She didn't think he even told her his last name, it just sort of came to her. She was playing chess with Castor but her mind wandered very often and always led her back to mossy green eyes. If it hadn't been for Andy messing up her head, she was sure she would have beaten Castor at least once. He was one hell of a chess player!

They had been talking too, and with everything that had happened to her today she suddenly found herself in an extreme state of exhaustion. Her head fell slowly as her hair cascaded off her shoulder, and then she heard him,

'_Em? Do you hear me? I need you to come out now; your Dad wants to tell both of us something. I know you're here.'_

oooo

Now Castor was confused. First, in a perfectly entertaining conversation about a tablet of runes that had just been discovered around the Mediterranean, his 'captive' had started to doze off. All of a sudden, her head jerked back up, and she smiled serenely at Castor.

"Andy's looking for me. I knew he'd come. We have to go see him."

He didn't need to be told twice. "Let's go then!"

Emeline grabbed his hand, and led him through the worn wooden door back into the … uh oh.

oooo

Andy had felt her. "She's been here, sir. Castor told me about this door he found the other day. They're probably hiding in there."

"I'm still a bit confused. She's hiding? I thought she was kidnapped."

"I'm still not quite sure about this, but I hear her sometimes. Like, she tells me how she's feeling. It's really weird… but I know she isn't hurt, she isn't really scared and she wants to beat Castor at chess."

Draco laughed. Whether it was true or not, it certainly relieved some tension. Andy was right, though, it was weird. Was he telepathic, or something? If he was, why did he seem so confused about it? "Ok, ok. So where is this door, then?"

Andy stopped dead in his tracks. "It is… was… right here." He pointed at a perfectly bare slab of stone wall.


	10. Some Old, Dusty Friends

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. and I don't own Harry… SIGH…

A/N: LO SIENTO! I am soooo sorry this took forever, and I really appreciate everyone being so tolerant with me… you see, I kind of hurt myself, (I'm very clumsy), and I now have a herniated disk. So my back is like…uggg. That's why I've been churning out fluff non-stop. It makes me feel better. This story makes me think. I know there are MUCH better stories out there, so be nice… this was the first one I started writing. Remember, if you are confused, just ask, 'cuz hopefully I can answer! Once again, thanks to the loverly CLAIRE-Chan! What would I do without you dear?

"I think we're lost." Emeline told Castor.

"Wow. Your grasp of the obvious is astounding." Castor had opened the door to see a beautiful, yet cold, corridor. It was a few meters wide and the wallpaper was a deep, blood red. A golden Fleur de Lis pattern contrasted against the crimson and along both walls there were four different life size portraits. Eight altogether. Each frame was softened by gold satin curtains tied back with tassels the color of beeswax.

Emeline sneered. "That was rude."

"And you're not?"

Castor heard the rustle of fabric, and grew tense. "Shhh…" He whispered softly to Emeline, pointing at the portraits.

"Oh, it's no use!" said an unfamiliar and agitated deep voice. Castor turned for the door, and tried the golden handle. It was locked. He raised his wand. "Alohamora" he whispered. Still locked. He raised his wand a second time to try something different, but the portrait spoke again.

"We know you're here, now that you've gone and woken us up. How long has it been, Rowena?"

"I am not sure, Godric. My label has faded more, I'd say about a century since we spoke to the last one." A female voice answered.

A second female voice chimed in. "And what a sweet boy he was, too! What was his name again? Quite a long one…"

"Alfred. No, wait… maybe it was Albert?" said Rowena.

"It was Albusss you ssenile piecess of canvasssss! Albusss Dumbledore. Am I the only one who ever remembersss _anything_?" This voice, Castor observed, was an unpleasant, shrill hiss. This was obviously Salazar, the infamous parselmouth.

"Hello?" Emeline said so quietly only Castor heard her. The four portraits on the right wall chattered on. "Hello?" She said more forcefully. This time the low rumble of voices abruptly ceased.

"Come on dearies, come and talk to us. You won't be able to leave until you've learned what you were lead here to learn. That's how we made this place." Helga Hufflepuff's dusty portrait claimed. "We want to see you."

Emeline and Castor walked the ten paces towards the cherry frames and satin curtains. They looked to their right as they did, taking in the large canvases dusty from years of sedentary occupants.

"You don't have to be afraid of us. We are just paint and fabric, after all." Rowena had always been the logical one.

"What are we doing here?"

"You must be a Weasley!" Helga looked absolutely delighted. "I can tell. It's all in the nose…a wonderful wizarding family if I ever saw one."

"Yep. That's the Weasley nose for you." His reply was positively dripping with sarcasm.

"You, girl! A Malfoy, no doubt about that. Darkesst magic runss deep in your veinsss. What'ss your name?"

"I'm Emeline. It's an honour sir." She folded into a perfect curtsy aimed at Salazar's portrait. "I'm a proud member of your house."

"I sseee… Weasley? To what noble houssse have you been sssorted?"

"Gryffindor, sir." Godric's grin could be seen a mile away. "The name is Castor."

"Ah!" Godric yelled. "A strong name indeed."

Rowena clapped her hands, the color and texture of faded parchment. "So, let's get down to business, shall we? Why is a Weasley here, of all places, with a Malfoy?"

"It's about the prophecy. The one about the ultimate power. I think it was seen even before you were around. Anyway, somebody tried to steal it from the Department of Mysteries, where my father works. I found out whom that somebody was, and I thought Emeline, and my friend Andy, might be in danger. So I brought her to this room I found, and somehow, we ended up here."

"You have come by one of the many doors through which few will ever come to this place." Rowena looked solemn. "That prophecy came from a chaotic time, before the concrete distinctions between light and dark magic. When lines were blurred. Utter anarchy."

Godric chimed in. "It told of time when good and evil would organize and fight for dominion over the Earth. One man, protector of all that is good and one son of darkness would fight and cause each other pain. They both would live to carry on their legacy in two children."

Now it was Helga's turn… "These children would find each other when the time came. They would be twin souls, that is, one soul ripped in half and placed into two different bodies with separate and distinct personalities. Because their parents would be so magical, and their fathers' bond so passionate, finding each other would cause an amazing surge of power, like putting a huge log on an already roaring fire. "

"Power, yesss, power that would sstrengthen their bond. A bond between light and dark never yet sseen in magic that could become the 'key'." Salazar added.

Emeline looked at Castor and said menacingly, "And you think I'm one of these… these soul thingies? How could I, my dad never hated anyone that much! I know he wasn't the best person in school, but he couldn't be a 'son of darkness'…" She trailed off, her face red and flustered. "What 'key'? What does the 'key' do, anyway?"

"I've already told you that Emeline. The ultimate power."

"Is that what that woman wants, then? This… power? Fine, she can have it for all I care!"

"Don't say that! No! I won't let you… hasn't your dad told you anything!"

"Hardly."

"Do you know who Harry Potter is? Voldemort? Do you know their story?"

"Not _another_ story…" Emeline drawled in a bored voice.

Castor let out a frustrated groan and grabbed Emeline's shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eyes. He recounted parts of his mother's diary that he had found years ago packed away in a closet smelling of mothballs and worn cedar. He told her about 'The Boy Who Lived' and a meeting in Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions with a pale boy whose face was pointed, and had steely grey eyes. Castor told her about a man named Lucius planting a fifty-year-old diary in his aunt's secondhand caldron that almost killed her. He told Emeline about the Headmistress now, his mother, punching out Draco because he had tried to kill a harmless hippogriff. He told her about a bouncing, platinum ferret. He told her about a rampage through the tunnels of the Department of Mysteries where a woman named Bellatrix (Emeline's great aunt) killed his uncle's godfather, led by Lucius' cold voice. And how with his father in prison, Draco Malfoy had worked all of his sixth year to bring the inner circle of the most terrible wizard the world had ever seen into his school, killing the Headmaster at the time and forcing Castor's uncle into the harsh world without his greatest advisor. Castor was soon interrupted, though.

Emeline was crying now. "No! He isn't like that! My dad is a good person, and he loves me and my mom! He would never join forces with anyone as terrible as that Vomecort person! I know him!"

Castor pulled Emeline into a tight hug while she cried into his shoulder, her whole body shaking and sputtering with each choking sob. She knew it was true, all of it. She had felt a certain sincerity in Castor's voice that forced her to believe him. "Andy. His dad is…"

"Harry Potter, yes."

They heard a sniffle from one of the portraits as Helga batted her eyes with a yellow embroidered handkerchief.

"So it's true then. That's why I can hear him, like another thought in my head. I can almost feel his heartbeat. Is that the ultimate power?"

"No" said a subdued Godric. "Just the key to it. I'm afraid nobody knows what the power is."

"Oh. Why does Andromeda want it again?"

"She's your second cousin… Bellatrix's daughter. She wants to bring Voldemort back." Castor said, having worked out the family tree in the past few seconds.

Emeline turned to the portraits. "Can I ask one more question before we leave?"

"You already have dear, but you're welcome to another one." Rowena smiled at them. Her eyes twinkled a light blue, and they reminded Castor vaguely of somebody else's eyes…

"Who is in those portraits?" Emeline pointed to the left wall where four other frames hung opposite the founders. The occupants, two women and two men, were still dozing happily hanging over armchairs or resting on desks.

"We thought you'd never ask!" said Godric, suddenly vibrant again. "Especially seeing as you're dealing with the whole twin soul ordeal. You know, I remember when…"

"Ahem!" coughed Rowena, obviously trying to keep Godric on task.

"Oh, yes. They are our soul mates. We used the magic from our love to build this school, that's why it' so strong, so beautiful. They're across from us so we can see them when we wake up. Isn't she beautiful?" Godric sighed as he stared lovingly at the painting across from him. The woman in it was out cold on a chaise lounge, and Castor swore later that he could see drool at the corner of her mouth.

Rowena looked sad as she looked across the red and gold corridor at her soul mate. He was muttering nonsense in-between soft snores, words like 'nitwit', 'blubber', 'oddment' and 'tweak'.

"Thank you." Emeline said.

"I believe you know the way out, dearies?" Helga said, stifling a yawn.

"Yes." Castor said. "We'll never forget this." He led Emeline to the gold handle, and it opened this time. He turned back to say one last thank you, but all of the founders were fast asleep. He closed the door quietly after Emeline went through, and the room started to spin uncontrollably.

A/N: I know this chappie is muy confusing, but review and let me know if it's worth continuing, por favor!


	11. My Condolences, Mr Malfoy

Disclaimer: I owN nOtHinnnnnnnng!

A/N: Sorry about another short chapter, but I've got a few ideas up my sleeve I can't wait to get to! I'm excited…Prom is exactly two months away! WOO HOO! As always, REVIEW POR FAVOR! Having more chapters than reviews saddens me : (

"It's your daughter, Potter." Ginny said to a very confused and flustered Harry. She was mad, he could tell, because she had not only called him by his last name, but she bore a striking resemblance toward her mother in Mrs. Weasley's saber-toothed tiger moments. "She's too curious for her own good. She has more news than I think you even have…"

"She told you about Ron, then? I know about that…"

"Not that, you git. At least, not just that. He's alive… Hermione found him."

"Really! How could Darcie know…?"

"That's what I asked her. And here's what I wanted to talk to you about. She's been messing around with your old school books and the library here and…"

"Spit it out!"

"Let me talk, would you! She made a potion! She found it in a particularly nasty looking book, called '_Moste Potente Potions_'…It doesn't sound like a normal text."

Harry's jaw dropped. He remembered when he, Hermione, and Ron had brewed polyjuice from instructions in the same book his daughter now had. In his memory swarmed pictures of gruesome transformation, men inside out, body parts in the wrong places, like some twisted Picasso portrait… and he muttered "Oh crap" under his breath.

Ginny seized the quiet moment to continue the story. "Darcie said it's called the Soporus Solution. The potion is meant to give the drinker more vivid dreams. Harry, she wanted so badly not to let you down. She figured if she practiced a little that she'd do well in her classes, and you would be proud of her. You are quite a hard act to follow…"

Harry sighed deeply and began to pace the faded carpet. "I still don't understand what this has to do with Ron."

Ginny sent him another death glare. "Let me finish! She messed up the ingredients. Darcie doesn't know what she did, exactly, but it turned out a different color and consistency than it was supposed to. Even though it looked and smelled odd… '_Almost sweet… like rotting wood.' _She drank it."

"SHE WHAT!"

Ginny chose to ignore Harry's outburst, and continued. This time, however, her head and voice were directed to behind the ancient desk and past the green tallchair... "Darcie, come out here."

A head of blazing red hair and a pale white hand appeared from the shelter of the mahogany and leather. "Sorry Dad. I just wanted to make you proud of me. Andy's good at Quiddich, Mom is really cool, you and your friends saved the world…" Darcie ran to Harry and held onto him, burying her soggy, freckled face into the black shoulder of his mussed robes. She pulled away, and gave him a weak smile. "I am too lazy to explain this all over again, and I don't think I'd do it justice… but Dumbledore had a brilliant idea…" She winked at a small portrait along the wall and pulled a small phial from her shallow pocket.

It contained a swirling, silvery substance Harry immediately recognized as a memory. '_Probably of what happened when she drank the potion…'_ He carefully took the phialand pulled the cork stopper with a muffled squelch. Walking over to the old stone pensieve in the cabinet Harry was curious. What an adventure this was turning out to be…

oooo

Draco was extremely worried now. Either Andy had the wrong place or the door to this room had vanished… either way he wasn't too happy. He was just about to tell Andy off, (feeling superior had always made him feel better before), when he realized that a plain, wooden door had appeared in the stone. He ran over to the brass handle and the door pulled in before he even reached it. The boy he had seen run into Hermione's office when they heard the news about Ron's death stood in the frame. His short, brown, and curly hair was frizzy from all the activity. He was swerving as he walked out of the room, like he had just walked off of a muggle merry-go-round.

"Mr. Malfoy, sir! I kidnapped your daughter. My condolences." Castor fell into a shelf, barely able to hold himself up. "Emeline! It's safe…"

"Thank Merlin!" Emeline, too, was swerving. "Damn rotating rooms!"

Draco grabbed her arm to steady her and then pulled her in for a hug. He pushed the liquid silver hair away from her flushed forehead and kissed the white skin, just like he did when she was younger. "I missed you, Emmie. You scared me."

"It's his fault entirely!" She sneered at Castor. "I would be just fine without him!"

"Yea. Just fine, but under an imperious curse, probably. Andromeda wants that power. So you can thank me now."

"You are such a…" She stopped, and her scowl turned upward into a pretty smile. "Andy, you found me!"

She pulled out of Draco's arms and ran to the dark silhouette of Harry's son, and draped her arms around his neck. She kissed him.

Draco groaned. This was definitely going to take some getting used to. Emeline was her mother's daughter, after all. Her great grandmother was a veela. He should have expected something like this to happen sooner or later. He wished Gabi was alive.

oooo

'_I missed you, Em.'_

'_And I missed you. I was getting sick of chess.'_

'_OW! Em, you bit my tongue!'_

'_I know…'_

'_You did it on purpose!'_

'_Only because you're stepping on my foot!'_

'_Oh. Sorry.'_

'_My dad is staring at us, Andy.'_

'_Let him!'_

…

"_OW! Not again! You're drawing blood, Dracula!'_

Emeline pushed Andy away, not knowing if it was because she didn't want her dad to see or just a need to come up for air. She was confusing herself. _'Later. We can do this later.' _He was a good kisser, just bad with his feet.

The button is calling to you... press meeeeeeeeee! And I will update after two more reviews so... ONWARD!


	12. Down the Rabbit Hole

Disclaimer: Me J.K. YEA RIGHT!

A/N: Well, I got my wish! You guys are awesome! So, here is the next chappie like I promised. I don't have much more in the plot well at the moment, but I will work on this tirelessly! (Around my Hamlet essay for Lit, of course…this story is my senioritis, so it reflects the randomness and confusion of my brain.) THANKS CLAIRE! Ja!

Harry felt his stomach heave as he hurdled forward into the liquid mist of his daughter's memory. Before he had completely gone inside of it, Harry had seen a somewhat circular version of what he recognized immediately as his daughter's bedroom in the expanded hut on the edge of the forest where his family lived.

He finally came down, crashing noiselessly into the hardwood floor. He quickly jumped to his feet and saw his daughter, in a striped sweater, blue jeans and trainers take a swig of a foaming potion. Not a second had passed before two enormous entryways appeared. The walls of the bedroom seemed to expand slightly to make room. '_Darcie needs to clean her room, I should talk to…wait a minute! My daughter just took the nastiest… **second** nastiest… looking potion ever and I'm worried about dirty clothes? I've turned into Petunia!"_

Harry turned towards the entryways and took in their sheer… bigness? Was that a word? Anyway… the one on his left looked like two columns, joined by an arch at the top. It was fairly plain, and made of some hard material the color of parchment with blots splattered all over it. Harry made a mental note to figure what it was.

It didn't strike him as sinister, per say, but it wasn't pleasant looking either. He hoped in his fatherly cowardice that Darcie would choose the other archway, slightly bigger and gleaming white. It was ornamented with every peaceful image imaginable… doves, olive branches, vines, flowers… there was even a statue of a wood nymph sitting at the foot of the left column. She was stroking her hair with fragile looking, thin fingers.

Darcie must have had the same idea as Harry, because she went for the second, more welcoming archway first. He followed her through gossamer white curtains floating in a non-existent breeze. A part of him hoped this was nothing like the archway in the Department of Mysteries, but he quickly remembered that this was the past, and that his daughter was still just fine.

The only word Harry found to correctly describe the darkness and silence past the curtains would be 'thick'. It clung to him, and he had the feeling that if Darcie screamed, even though she was a less than a foot away, he wouldn't be able to hear it. But she walked on bravely, until it felt as if both were being pulled into a black whirlpool. There was still no sound.

They emerged in the Headmaster's office of all places, looking exactly like it had when Dumbledore was still occupying it. All of the instruments were buzzing, spitting and whirring, some of them even emitting smoke. Just like it used to be.

Harry saw Darcie's jaw drop at the sight and he watched her turn slowly and gasp. He turned too, and was amazed at who he saw.

A great black dog bounded over to Darcie, licking her squarely on the ear. Dumbledore in immaculate periwinkle robes followed, and smiled at Harry's daughter with twinkling eyes. Harry instinctively knew what was coming…

The thin man with rounded spectacles over hazel eyes and messy, jet black hair ran to Darcie and swung her up in a hug. Harry's mother, with wavy red hair and almond shaped eyes cupped her face to get a good look, and then kissed Darcie on the forehead. Hagrid strolled over and patted Darcie on the back, sending her straight to the faded rug from the strength of Hagrid's palm.

Harry felt a wave of guilt and regret was over him… because he had been afraid of the pain, he hadn't even told her who some of these people were. He saw tiny, shimmering tears form at the corners of Darcie's eyes, and he realized that even though she didn't know them, she felt the immense amount of love in the room. None of them ever whispered a word.

He felt the thick darkness pull at his feet and it felt almost as if he was drowning in cold. He honestly was afraid of suffocation. The whirlpool sucked Harry and Darcie through the floor and into another, dimly lit area.

Harry wondered what surprises were in store this time. He and Darcie landed on something soft… it felt familiar… Devil's Snare! This was the SAME way it felt years ago, when he was only eleven, after jumping blindly through the trapdoor. He scrambled to get off, panicking, until he realized once again that it was only a memory, after all. He watched Darcie find her way out of it, barley even struggling. Harry watched her rub her bicep where a strand of the plant had held her tightly, when she stopped suddenly. She lifted up her sleeve, and there were no marks from the hold at all. '_That's odd…'_

Harry noticed that he had been standing on what looked like frosted glass, at least a few feet thick. Darcie had noticed it too, and it looked as if she was trying to break the glass with her little maryjane. It was so cute. He couldn't help smiling. She was so much like Ginny.

He walked around, looking for a way off the glass. He kept Darcie in sight, because it still was her memory. He stopped abruptly when he banged his head on something. He didn't even feel it; he really just saw the thing at the level of his eyes. It was more off the glass… and looking ahead, Harry could see a place where their glass floor rose up and in. Oh Crap.

As he looked up, Harry saw something sprinkling from far above him. He found a few small grain of something tan-ish and bent down to get a closer look. Sand. '_This just keeps getting odder and odder, like we've fallen through a rabbit hole! MY NAME ISN'T ALICE!'_ Darcie was picking up the sand and sifting it through her fingers when Harry heard her whisper.

"Timeturner."

A/N: Like I said, I will work hard! Always review if you need me to explain anything, because my mind works in odd ways! MWAH!


	13. Tap Dancing and Trophies

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry. But I own Andy…muahahahaha….

A/N: Sorry about the shorter chapter, but a good break is a good break, right? Right. Thanks for the reviews! I'm sorry I'm so confusing! I love you all, MWAH!

Harry was feeling extremely claustrophobic. Sand was streaming from above him in torrents now, and he knew that if this hadn't been a memory his eyes and tongue would feel gritty and dry by now. It was up to his ankles, then knees, then waist; and there was no sign of it stopping…

The think blackness surrounded him again, pulling him under like a riptide. The current swirled, and he could vaguely make out Darcie's form ahead of him. She had Ginny's bright red hair, and Harry had the feeling that one would be able to find at least her hair in any amount of darkness. It was almost glowing, even in the heavy night.

He gasped as the nothingness melted away to show Ron, tap dancing with a spider. They had thin black canes and top hats. It was absolutely absurd. He fought down a chuckle at the ridiculous spectacle, even though nobody…nothing… could hear him. The background came more into focus the longer he looked, and was able to make out walls covered in glass cabinets. It was the trophy room, and right across from Darcie was an especially large award with a glowing name: TOM RIDDLE. The trophy sprung to life, and danced along with Ron and the medium-sized acromantula. He heard Darcie mutter something next to him, and he tuned out the odd scene before him to listen. She was counting out things on her fingers as she thought out loud.

"Those people, in the first place, I know they weren't strangers. I wonder if they're people Mom or Dad knew. And then there was the big plant thing and the timeturner, they seem like weird things that normally wouldn't go together. The dark stuff didn't take me from the plant to the timeturner, I fell through it into the glass. There has to be some reason why they're together. Now it's this…" She looked with smiling hazel eyes to her Uncle, now twirling in a circle with one hand holding onto a hairy leg and the other wrapped around a little golden arm that had popped out of the side of the trophy. "This is just plain odd. Uncle Ron hates spiders. It's almost like a bad dream. An overactive subconscious. If this is what's behind the first gate, I wonder what could be behind the second?"

It was almost like the darkness heard her speaking and figured her time was up. It felt like a muggle vacuum cleaner had been turned on behind them, sucking them away until, finally, with a loud thud and a silent one Darcie and Harry were unceremoniously spit back onto the floor of Darcie's bedroom. The white gate…somehow the knowledge entered Harry that this was made of ivory… disintegrated right before his, well, Darcie's eyes.

Harry watched Darcie sit down on the bed and stare at the other gate. He could tell she was thinking, and so he reasoned he would have some time to think things out too before she went through the last gate.

Last night he had fallen asleep at his desk, as usual. He remembered a dream, too. Where everyone he'd lost… Dumbledore, his parents, his godfather… they were all there. Comforting him. Darcie had been inside of his dream! And Harry bet himself that if he asked Hermione she would say that last night she dreamed about Devil's Snare and timeturners. Ron's was quite obvious… nobody else could have a dream like that! That's what they were, but why THOSE dreams? What did they all have in common, why were those dreams through the ivory gateway? Harry had so many questions. There was only one way he knew how to answer them, and that meant going through the dark gate.


	14. Insufferable Gits, Yeparooniedoonie!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry. I own Andy. I love my Andy to death. So there.

A/N: I hope this chapter clears up some things! As usual, review please!

Chapter 13

Draco's jaw dropped. "Twin souls… Merlin, I never knew…" Castor had explained about the room, meeting the founders and the whole twin soul thing as the four walked back to the Headmistress' office. Of course, Draco's daughter hadn't helped explain. She and Andy lagged behind and barely shuffled their feet.

Draco could tell, though, that she was explaining to him. It was so unnerving, not knowing what they were saying to each other. He suddenly realized he had been unconsciously clenching his fist in the pocket of his robes, and released it. Maybe at one point in his life, he would have kept that tension. Now, though… now was different. The day before Gabi died, they had another argument. They fought a lot, but after all she shouting, she was still the only one that could ever calm him down. He missed her terribly. He never had a chance to tell her that he loved her one last time before she died. The most he felt he could do at this point was to be a good father. One thing was for sure, at least: Emeline had him wrapped around her perfect finger, and he loved her more than life itself.

Oooo

'_Wow, that's so weird… twin souls?'_

'_Yep-a-roonie-doonie.'_

'_Em, did you seriously just say that?'_

'_Yep-a-roonie-doonie.'_

'_That's freaking me out.'_

'_Wimp.'_

'_Am not!'_

'_Are too!'_

'_Am not!'_

'_Yes, you are.'_

'_Why do I like you again?'_

'_Does that mean you give up?'_

'_NO!'_

'_O.K., then it means you're a wimp.'_

"_No, it doesn't!'_

'_Yes it does.'_

'_No!'_

'_Yes!'_

'_Em, how do you do this to me?'_

'_Do what?'_

'_Wind me up.'_

'_I don't wind you up.'_

'_Yes, you do!'_

'_We're not getting anywhere…'_

'_I know.'_

'_Do you care?'_

'_Not really.'_

'_Why not?'_

'_Because, I love you.'_

This caused Emeline to stop dead in her tracks. He loved her? Nobody had ever said that to her before, besides her parents. She looked deep into his eyes, trying to find one flaw, one thing that would make him human. And although she could think of many reasons why he wasn't perfect, she had a feeling that those cute little flaws made him who he was. She also finally admitted to herself the strange feeling that she loved him too.

'_I, er…'_

'_Are you ok with me saying that Em?'_

'_I think, er… that maybe it's ok…'_

'_Are you sure?'_

'_Yea.'_

'_Are you positive?'_

'_YES.'_

'_You're lying…' _Castor added a particularly mischievous smile to this line.

'_Am not.'_

'_Are too!'_

'_I love you too! Are you happy now? Not shut it!'_

'_I win!'_

'_You're insufferable.'_

'_Yep-a-roonie-doonie!'_

'_I forgot to mention, you slimy git, that we can talk to each other like this because our dads hated each other.'_

'_Is that true?'_

'_Yes!'_

'_How bad was it?'_

'_Apparently, on a scale from one to ten, with one as acquaintances and ten as mortal enemies… they were a fourteen. And a half. Plus two…'_

'_O.K., Em, I get it!'_

'_You do? I'm shocked!'_

'_Em?'_

'_Yea?'_

'_Did your father, by any chance, ever turn into a ferret?'_

'_Yes. Why do you ask?'_

'_Just an old dinner story of Uncle Ron's…'_

'_Git.'_

Oooo

Harry watched Darcie work up the nerve to walk through the next gate. He could tell she was nervous, but the fact remained that she was definitely the product of him and Ginny, and she would never back down from an adventure. While she had been getting herself psyched up to walk through, she had written down what she had seen through the ivory gate and came to a conclusion about all of them.

Harry couldn't believe he hadn't made the connection between the dream-like things; it was so simple once Darcie wrote it down. Not all of them were nice dreams, but all of them were very unrealistic. Feeble rehashes of old hopes and fears. They didn't really mean anything.

Once Harry had swallowed this fact, he had begun to guess what might be through the dark gate. Maybe there were dreams that told the truth. It all made since to him now… The ivory gate was pretty, but that was all it was. It glossed over bad dreams and lies. But the dark gate, it was honest. It looked worse, but at least it served as a sincere warning. Like, 'I'm not here to make you happy, I'm here to fulfill a purpose. At least I'm not pretending to be what I'm not, like Mr. Flashy over here.' Harry decided to stop thinking after he imagined the dark gate with a huge 'I'm with stupid!' banner.

'_This must be how she got her news; she probably saw everything that was going to happen in one of the dreams. Like when you're going through a day and you stop and think to yourself that you've done the exact same thing already. Déjà vu. And you realize you've already seen it in a dream. Yea, I bet that's what's going to happen.'_

Darcie stood up, took a deep breath, and stepped past the tattered, flowing curtains. Harry followed. At first it was dark, like the other gate, but then both Potters found themselves falling in a whirl of color. There was sound here, too. It was like a radio tuning in and out, and the noise was created by people talking and things banging and other indistinguishable everyday sounds in the wizarding world.

The chaos reminded Harry instantly of the burrow.

All of a sudden, Darcie landed hard in a chair. Harry fell to the floor, but didn't feel anything. He looked up, and noticed what looked like a huge TV screen, pasted on these walls of moving color. Darcie looked completely spellbound by all of this, and just as she whispered "What now?" The screen began to show different images at lightning speed. He couldn't help but wonder how she could decipher them, so he decided to watch.

Harry caught glimpses of the Dursley's, a dentist's office, the burrow, Malfoy Manor, Hogwarts, the lake, the squid, an ice cream cone, Cho crying in Madame Pudifoot's, a frozen and dressed up gnome, maroon sweaters, house elves…

But then things became darker. Wormtail, Sirius, Voldemort, Death Munchers, The Chamber of Secrets, Ron tied to a post underwater, Cedric lying dead on dewy grass, Ginny pale and unconscious on the cold stone floor of the Chamber, Molly Weasley crying as the boggart turned into dead family member after dead family member…

Somehow, this gate communicated everything about the images to poor Darcie, and by the end of the oddest slideshow Harry had ever seen, sparkling tears were pouring down her cheeks. "Make it stop!" She yelled into the void, "Please, no more! Please!"

The slides changed again… it was now time for the future. Harry saw many images, (Hermione finding Ron alive), but they kept going and going without any explanation for him. He could tell by the look on his daughter's face that she understood everything. The images got faster as the screen grew smaller, and in an instant it was all over. They slowly floated upward, passing all the colors. The radio noise started again, but everything was more relaxed and subtle. They were once again spit back into Darcie's room. The gate shimmered away, and Darcie said one word… "Woah."


	15. Castor's Eyebrow Issues

Disclaimer: You know the drill!

A/N: You have no idea how absolutely sorry I am for how long this chapter has taken. I've been studying for two different AP English exams when I'm not at chiropractors, massage therapists, neurosurgeons, pain management associates, or physical/aquatic therapists. A warning… I was in a goofy mood when I wrote the end of the chapter. This is mostly a cute break from kidnapping and confusion. Enjoy…

Chapter 14

Heather was extremely confused. She had no idea where Andy or Castor were, and with every passing minute she kicked herself more and more for introducing her crush to the beautiful, sophisticated Emeline.

By sunset, she was utterly convinced that Em had done something to Andy… like a love potion. She found herself pining for her poor, abused almost-boyfriend and cursing 'that dratted Malfoy' for trying to steal him away.

'_She'll regret stealing him from me…'_

Heather began to formulate a plan.

Oooo

Harry knew the memory was almost over, as the edges around his daughter's bedroom began to blur slowly. Right before he fell back into Hermione's office, he looked over Darcie's shoulder to read what she was scribbling on the piece of parchment underneath the connection she made about the first gate.

There was only one word, embellished and underlined. 'TRUTH'.

Oooo

Ginny paced the room and wrung her hands. Was Harry o.k.? He'd been gone a long time, and she was worried. Darcie became irritated with her mother's fidgeting, and snapped, "It took longer than two seconds! Settle down!"

She immediately regretted her statement.

"MY HUSBAND, YOUR FATHER, IS STUCK IN YOUR HEAD! DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME TOO…"

OOF!

"Hey hun!" Harry said cheerily after landing on his fuming wife. He made no move to get up.

…

"Hun?"

"Dad, I think you're suffocating her."

"Oh, oops." He got to his knees carefully and looked into his wife's eyes. She was just, so beautiful… he forgot where he was, what he'd learned. Harry kissed Ginny until her she pushed him up so she could breathe.

Darcie was covering her eyes and repeating, "Ew, ew, ew…"

Draco, Emeline, Andy, and Castor all stood gaping in the doorframe. The latter, having inherited the subtlety of his father, said "Yuck! Get a room!"

Emeline stomped on his foot.

"What was that for?"

"Just to remind you that you're a prat." Said Emeline.

Draco swelled with pride. '_That's my girl…'_

Oooo

"So when will this 'ultimate power' thing show up?" Emeline asked Dumbledore's portrait distractedly.

"Young lady, you are in dire need of a lemon drop! Haven't we already established that nobody knows what to look for let alone when? Mrs. Weasley, you know what to do…"

Hermione shot to her feet and practically ran over to the nearest tapestry. She smiled, mumbling "I finally get to try this out…"

It's amazing how seven simple words could ignite such fear in a roomful of friends and family. Maybe if they were "I'm going to annihilate you all today' or 'I've decided I'd rather be a man' the room's reaction could be considered normal. Oh well. Maybe another day, another story.

She pushed the heavy fabric away to reveal an opening in the stone wall, just under eye level. It was only a square, empty space a few feet deep into the wall. Grasping in the seemingly vacant air, her fingers closed, and she pulled out a silver instrument.

Nearly everyone in the room raised an eyebrow. Castor tried to, but the other kept rising with it. It was a talent that eluded him, like unwrapping Drooble's Best Blowing Gum with just his tongue or talking to a girl he liked without his ears going red. Emeline found his exaggerated forehead movements extremely amusing.

"What does it do?" Draco asked, a bit suspicious.

Hermione didn't answer, but instead tapped the tip of her wand to the instrument, muttered something, and set it on a spindly table. It began to whir, some of the parts spinning. Everyone watched, entranced, and Andy wondered vaguely why this one was more special than other ones that sat mosh-posh all around the office covered in dust.

A plopping noise brought them out of their respective trances, and they became fully aware of a golden egg rolling on the weathered wood from its momentum.

"What is it, Mum?" asked Castor.

She picked up the egg and cracked it on the table, revealing something yellow-looking. Still working, she replied "What do you think it is?"

"The ultimate power?" He said sheepishly.

Hermione laughed, and her smile climbed up to her brown eyes. "Not quite."

"What then, aunt 'Mione?" Andy was extremely curious. What would require such a hiding place?

"Lemon drops. Want one?"

Dumbledore's portrait chuckled at the thunderstruck faces surrounding him.

Harry and Ginny looked at each other, silently agreeing that that this was all the proof they needed. Dumbledore was certifiably insane, with Hermione following briskly in his footsteps. Phineas Nigellus Black rolled his eyes theatrically, and Emeline giggled in surprise.

Voldie had hidden Horcruxes, vitally important his survival. Dumbledore hid lemon drops, vitally important to…well, nothing.

Go figure.

A/N: Weeeelllll? Let me know what you think. Like lemon drops, this chappie is pretty much useless. Not completely, because of the first part, but... oh well. And just as a little fact... Castor's issues with eyebrows come from my father, who looks hilarious while trying raise his eyebrows. He's odder than I am. I will try to get the next chappie out faster... reviews might help... hint hint


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